Hanabira ni Kioku
by Flarish
Summary: Sesshoumaru, famous for never revealing his emotions, is about to go through some painful changes. What happens as a young girl of the wolf demon tribe falls for him, and his need for her grows? Sesshoumaru's choices will not be easy ones to make.


Remembrance of a meeting.  
  
Like the beating of a heart the footsteps fell, quick of pace and sure of each step. Often had these footfalls resonated through the wooded halls of this dense forest. Then these footsteps falter, set off pace by the feelings of the one who controls them. A nervous hand, clawed and marked, runs through ivory hair, before falling to this figures side, clenched into a tight fist. Steps continue, forced into compliance by unwilling limbs. The dense population of trees thins, revealing a small clearing with a stream running through. The figure looked around, obvious disappointment written on his features. Not much, but indeed shoulders drooped under thick boa of fur.  
  
She was not here. She had taken his advice. Apparently, the great Sesshoumaru had scared her away.  
  
.x.x.x.{Earlier on}.x.x.x.  
  
It was a few days before, before Sesshoumaru's footsteps were faltered, before the stotic mask he wore was torn.  
  
Sesshoumaru was again walking through the forest he always did, the forest he claimed. He was so absorbed in thought he failed to notice the scent of the female who waded in the very stream he was headed for. He had failed to hear the sounds she was making as she bathed. And apparently she had not noticed him either.  
  
Her back was to him, her who was bathing waist deep in this small stream. Her armor lay strewn about, fur and metal piled on the shore, carelessly thrown off. Apparently she hadn't thought anyone would disturb her here.  
  
She was wrong.  
  
Sesshoumaru was but a few feet away when he finally caught her scent, and stopped dead in his tracks. Ordinarily he would have been upon her in rage, demanding to know why she invaded his lands. But something stopped him. He had seen many females in his time, but this one was.different. She wasn't extraordinarily beautiful, but in his eyes, she was perfect.  
  
She was a bit on the petite side, with waist length brown hair, showing only the graceful curve of pointed ears. He could not yet see her face, yet he could imagine. Her body was perfectly sculpted in his eyes. She was slender, well built, with small breasts and a long neck set upon small shoulders.  
  
"Lovely," this word escaped Sesshoumaru's lips, causing his presence to become known. The girl's head snaps back so she now faces him, showing for the first time startlingly blue eyes. In one swift motion she reaches into her discarded armor, drawing a small blade. Apparently defense came before modesty, for she made no attempt to cover herself. Her dagger drew Sesshoumaru from his trance, and the strange expression on his face hardened.  
  
"Who are you, who invade my lands?"  
  
A scowl falls upon the girl's face.  
  
"I see no reason I should tell you these things."  
  
Anger slowly played onto the stotic mask kept on by Sesshoumaru.  
  
"Do you not know who I am? Why do you not try to run, only to be cut down?"  
  
A small snort escapes her flared nostrils. The wolves were never known for patience, or good manners. And that is what she was, a wolven youkai.  
  
"I believe you have answered your own question, stranger."  
  
With that snide comment she began affixing her armor onto her slender form. The breastplate did little to hide the curves of her breasts. The small doeskin skirt she wore did not conceal her perfectly formed legs.  
  
"If you wish to be known, then tell me your name."  
  
"I am Sesshoumaru," he said as the girl wrapped her tail around her waist, "Son of the great dog demon, more powerful then any."  
  
She snorts once more, not impressed.  
  
"If you are so powerful, why do you not strike me down?"  
  
Sesshoumaru pauses. The question he had hoped not to come had arrived. He hardens his gaze further, retreating behind the expressionless mask he wore always.  
  
"I do not need to explain my actions to the likes of you. Now wench," that word seemed to strike home, spurring a forgotten memory back into flared existence, "I suggest you leave. And if I ever catch you in this forest again, I will follow your question up with the appropriate action."  
  
.x.x.x.{End Flashback}.x.x.x.  
  
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Thanks for reading. I hoped you like it. Please send me any ideas you have. I'll post the next chapter soon. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated.  
  
^^  
  
-Flarish 


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